


The Last Night of Light

by composedchaos



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Oneshot, Original Character(s), Young Ben Solo, idk - Freeform, just kinda sad tbh, nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/composedchaos/pseuds/composedchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have been sent out with a group of padawans by Luke Skywalker to complete a new mission. Nothing about this particular mission seems out of the ordinary, except you receive mysterious warnings from the Force. You sense that tomorrow, everything will change. Ben Solo, your best friend and lover, warns you of this change as well.<br/>Takes place the night before Ben betrays the Jedi. Pure Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Night of Light

**Author's Note:**

> so just a little background of your character! you were training with the first order for awhile, your father very prominent in it's founding. you have a brother named Ivan too. this is just a rough concept. if it's received well i might make it an actual story! idk we'll see!

Master Luke must be out of his mind. Sending you all on this mission by yourselves is pure madness. Ben, the wisest of you all, knows this is going to go badly. He keeps warning you about what is to come. But sadly, he is vague. Many times he has encouraged you to run away, by yourself. But how could you leave your best friend, your love? You couldn’t leave everything you’ve worked so hard for.

When you enter the room, you see Ben and Mia sitting criss-crossed on the bed, playing cards, with only the moonlight from the window as their lamp. Ben looks up at you, smiling, his eyes careful not to rest too long on anything that your tee shirt and black pajama shorts reveal. Mia says, her blue and glossy eyes meeting your own, “We just started a new game, you can join if you want.”

You cross your left arm, putting weight on your right knee slightly. “It’s getting late and-”

The door swings open behind you and a voice you know all too well echoes, “Mia, can you bring your cards in here? Ben’s going to be very busy tonight.”

You can’t breathe.

Ivan guides Mia out of the room while Ben stands off of the bed, protesting, “What do you mean I’m-”

Ivan pulls Ben forward, whispering something in his ear with a chuckle. Ben groans, slamming the door shut behind him. He leans against the wall and you stare for a moment; his long and lean body is pale in the moon light. He’s beautiful. You can make out the knocks of his knees through his plaid pajama pants, his drawstring tied in a perfect bow. His gray tee shirt is loose on him. You’ve worn that tee shirt before, just around your room back at the Jedi Temple. Then, your eyes meet his. The copper color shines out, like it always does. Something about your silence makes you tilt your chin down a bit and slump your shoulders. 

He takes a chair out from the corner of his room and straddles it, facing the bed. “Do you wanna sit down?”

You nod, making your way across from him, onto his bed. You fold your knees up and glance up at him. “What game were you and Mia playing?” Your voice sounds horse.

He hesitates for a moment, then clears his throat, answering, “Just Old Maid.”

You smile, blinking. “That one used to be my favorite.”

Ben smiles too. “I always enjoyed Crazy Eights.”

“That too.”

You feel a breeze sweep in from the window behind you, making your hair fly forward. You shiver. Ben hurriedly stands to his feet, reaching back for a fleece blanket you got from the military base. He wraps it around you, then makes his way back to the chair. Something inside you gives you the courage to grab his hand, stopping him. You freeze. You and Ben haven’t really tested our boundaries before. Ben’s not fond of physical contact, becoming nervous under your touch. He seems scared of commitment. Scared that he’s not going to be around for long. He assures you that he is only afraid of dying in battle, but you can easily see him running away. You sense his discomfort in the Force, his eagerness to be dismissed from training with Master Luke.

Are you getting yourself into something? Are you making him feel uncomfortable by this request?

You say quietly, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Ben freezes. “Um,” His eyes trace your body nervously and then meet your eyes again, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I just wanted to spend some time with you before tomorrow.”

“I-In the same bed?” He clears his throat.

You look down. “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

He scratches his head, his raven hair ruffling out. “I didn’t realize it was that late. Do you want to go to bed now?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to wake up to tomorrow.”

“Technically, tomorrow’s already today.” He could’ve joked when he said it. But he didn’t. Because it’s not funny. Something so terrifying can’t be funny. You go to battle in just a few hours. This is where this period of your life ends. You just don’t know how yet. All you can do is sense the massive change that is coming. Ben wraps an arm around you, fingers resting in-between the crevasses of where your ribs bump through your tee shirt. 

You sigh, leaning into to him. Moments like this scare you sometimes. You’re constantly afraid that it’ll be the last time he ever holds you. So you try to memorize everything. You try to remember his specific scent, each line of his face, every single color in his eyes, and the exact way his skin feels. You never want to let go. Because if you let go, there’s the chance of never being able to grab back on. 

Ben kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering before he pulls back. He whispers, holding you closer, “You realize how much I adore you, correct?”

You smile. “I do.”

A sigh. “I am deeply sorry for whatever may happen tomorrow.”

“Technically today.”

It still wasn’t funny.

“Oh, yeah.” You remember, reaching towards the nightstand. “I made us this.”

He smiles, grabbing the hot chocolate you can’t quite reach. “You’re the best,” He takes a sip then exhales in relief. “It’s still a bit hot.”

You nod, “I didn’t let it cool because it’s so cold.” Being reminded of the temperature, you shudder. 

He hands the mug to you, your cold, nearly shivering, hands gripping the sides. Ben readjusts himself on the bed so that he’s sitting criss-crossed, facing you. You readjust yourself to face the same way to him, being careful you don’t spill. There’s an awkward silence as you sip up a small portion of the cup. You hold it tighter, so it supplies more warmth. It’s really uncomfortable. You and Ben aren’t talking as much as we should be. Maybe it’s because you might be facing the inevitable death tomorrow, even more so then usual, and what can you say to that? Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re on a bed together, and it’s cold, and you really just want him to wrap his arms around you, and you to lay on his chest, to keep warm. But things like that lead to several other things. You study at the way he’s looking at you. His eyes don’t tell you what he’s thinking about that. You never can tell what he’s thinking. He seems very somber today, guilt ridden. He puts too much pressure on himself. You wish you could relieve it somehow.

His hands reach up and grip yours, around the cup. “Are you cold?”

“I’m okay.”

He frowns, “I’m sorry. If you want to go back to your room-”

You frown too. “Do you want me too?”

“What? No, I-”

“Cause if I’m bothering you and preventing you from a good night’s sleep tomorrow, I’ll leave, I really don’t want-”

“(Y/N), I-”

You get to your feet and set the mug on the nightstand. “I’m sorry.”

You start walking towards the door, being forced to only imagine how red you are, how much you’re blushing. That was terribly embarrassing. Ivan’s comments beforehand didn’t help. It probably creeped him out. Oh, god, now, by you leaving, Ben probably thinks the only reason you came in here was to have sex. And now you know he’s not interested in the opportunity. Just as you reach out for the door knob, you feel his hand reach around your waist. Your naturally turn around. You’re met with him, leaning down his forehead ghosting over yours.

“I obviously don’t want you to go.” He smiles a bit, a quick laugh escaping. His breath is warm, tickling your lips. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. I don’t want you to think I’m putting you in a position you don’t want to be in. If something does happen tomorrow, I don’t want you to think that this wasn’t real, that it-”

“I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” Your hand reaches up, sliding halfway into his hair and halfway on the hallows of his cheek.   
“I didn’t want you to think that that’s what I was doing by coming in here.”

He nods stepping closer so that your back is against the door. “Why would I think that?”

“With Ivan coming in here and-”

“All Ivan ever talks about is sex. It’s not very different for him to talk about it tonight. He thinks that he is making a statement because he’s training to be a Jedi, yet he acknowledges his sexuality.”

You scowl. “I can’t believe I’m related to him.”

“He is your father’s child.”

“I’m my father’s child too.”

Ben laughs leaning in closer. “You’re nothing like him though.”

You don’t like the way this conversation is going. “But I kinda am. I used to be with them… training to be an apprentice The First Order.”

“You hated every minute of it.”

”I don’t regret the awful things they made me do...”

His interests suddenly piques, “Why?”

“The Force, through the First Order, lead me to the Jedi. Which lead me to you.”

Your eyes connect with his and he understands exactly what you are feeling. Most people look down on your because of your family’s history with The First Order. Ben doesn’t. Your hand moves to the back of his head, through his hair, guiding him in. The last thing you see before you close your eyes is his own eyes flickering down toward your lips. 

His lips barley brush yours, “It was worth it, for me.”

You laugh. “What was?”

“Enduring the pain of being somewhere I know I could never belong. Every minute was worth it.” You are not quite sure what he means by that. Does he mean being with the Jedi? His arms go around your waist, pulling you into him. “I stayed this long for you,” he breathes before he kisses you more reassuringly this time. The hand that isn’t in his hair goes onto his chest, fingers digging into his shoulder. He starts slow, memorizing every single moment, analyzing everything. It should make you feel paranoid, but it doesn’t. It just makes you want more, it begs for you to be closer to each other. The hand in his hair tightens a bit as you sigh. 

The simple reaction causes something inside of him to click and your back goes against the door. His hands quickly slide up your waist, skipping over any too-personal parts, to the sides of your face. You feel him breathing into you, in and out, deeply yet quickly. He kisses you in sync with his breathing. 

He hisses, barely interrupting his rhythm, “Even if you did come in here just to have sex before tomorrow,” It’s not even an accusation that makes you freeze under his touch, it shock of his sudden forwardness on the topic. A topic that he was previously too apprehensive to even mention. He laughs lightly. “Do you think that I would really mind?”

You respond, “I didn’t come here just for that…” You pull away looking up at him with a small smirk. “But this is all really nice, nonetheless.”

He smiles, bringing his face to your own, but missing your lips. Instead he brushes his nose to your ear. He whispers, his words something you can feel just as much as hear, “Nice? Is that all you’ve gathered?”

You play along, whispering back, “You should give me more material to critique so I can form a better conclusion.”

He goes back to kissing you hungrily again, accepting the challenge.

You try to make it easier for him to reach you, not having to bend over so much because of your height difference. His lips travel to your cheek, then to your neck.

You smile, looking at the wall across from him, your eyes avoiding the bed. “I need a stool or something.”

You feel him laugh into you collarbone, kissing you again. He kisses his way back up to your lips and you feel one hand move down to your waist, one to your inner knee. You twitch, slightly confused by the action, still trying to maintain a good rhythm while kissing him. 

His three fingers near the skin behind your knee give a reassuring squeeze. Oh. That’s why. You take a deep breath and relax your body, mainly legs. His hands pull you up, back still firmly against the wall, so that you’re eye-level with him, your legs wrapped around his waist. You stop kissing, for a second just to look at each other. He asks, his voice mumbling, “Are you alright with this?”

Your fingers are now knotted tightly into his hair. You know you’re not going to fall. But you’re hanging on so tight. You nod, not realizing how out of breath you are, “Yeah, I…” He waits for you to continue, but you just study him. The long length of his dark eyelashes, framing his brown eyes, illuminated by the moon light. His full lips, and how they were just against your own. You wonder how you make him feel when you kiss. If you’re as good at it as he is. “I…” He still waits patiently, his hands readjusting on your mid-thighs. Your eyes travel down to his jaw line, then to his adams apple, then to the cotton button up shirt, covering the rest of his upper body. You lean into him, your lips connecting to his neck. You feel him exhale, sounding like he’s in relief, and you kiss him harder as a response. Your hands travel down to his back, fingertips digging into his skin. Your lips move back up to his neck, behind his ear. His chin is digging into your back, over your shoulder. You instinctively feel like you should talk to him, tell him something of encouragement. You go to whisper something, but instead you end up dragging your teeth against his earlobe. His body pushes you further into the door, hands grabbing at you tighter.

You pull away, only to look at him again, before kissing him firmer, deeper. You move his lips with your own, in the same rhythm of his hands rubbing against your thighs. He seems slightly startled as his fingers brush against the hem of your shorts. Ben moves his hand inches back away. You wish you could make him feel more comfortable. You always get this sort of timid vibe from once he finally gets the hang of this whole “making out” thing. You bring a hand to his bicep, rubbing against the muscle as it flexes and relaxes, your fingers sliding under his sleeve to his shoulder. Your fingers rub his back and your thumb skims over the scar from being shot at, back in Endor. 

Ben mumbles something against you, pulling away. He looks at you admirably. “It was so long ago.”

“So much has changed…”

He leans back into you, continuing to kiss you. He pulls away, just as you begin to kiss him back. You confess, “If I would’ve known that we’d be doing this right now, back then, I don’t think I would believe it.”

“I would’ve done this a lot sooner if I knew how wonderful it would feel.” Ben’s forehead presses against yours and you kiss lightly.

Pulling away, he whispers, “Should we lay down?”

You nod. 

Still with his hands on your thighs, he carries you over to the bed, laying you down, then laying over top of you. He looks like he doesn’t know what he should do now. You are unsure as well. But you know what you want to do, so you go with that. You kiss him, relaxing your body into the bed while pulling him with you. Everything is heightened, every sense and sound and taste.   
Your fingers latch into the curls of his hair, squeezing a bit while your other hand moves under his shirt to feel the skin of his back. 

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. This might be it. This might be the last time ever. You’ve thought it before. But this time it’s made your nerves twitch, your insides filling up with a weight you cannot lift. The Force is telling you that this will be the last time.

You kiss him harder, more desperate, your breathing is louder, and your fingers dig deeper. He replicates, grabbing your hip, squeezing it in the rhythm of your kissing. A light moan escapes your mouth and he freezes.

“I’m sorry.” Ben pulls away, laying beside you, an inch away.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, was that gross for you?”

“What?” He looks over in confusion, almost amused by the question. “Shit, the problem is I find it too… not gross.”

“What do you mean?”

He just stares at you. You know what he means. You don’t know why you felt like you had to ask that.

Crossing your arms, you mummer, “Whatever.”

“Hey now,” Ben grabs your arm from being crossed and laces his fingers through your own. “I just want you to feel comfortable.”

“I do, Ben,” You look over, wanting to only be able to think about how cute his hair looks with how messy and tousled it is at the moment. But you can’t only think about that. “We might die tomorrow. I might die tomorrow. I don’t know. The Force isn’t being clear with me.”

“I promise you, whatever happens, I will protect you.”

Looking back on everything in under a second, you come to the conclusion, “I think we’ve been too lucky for too long. I don’t think you can protect me, Ben. You can’t control everything.” He frowns. You try not to have your eyes well up too much with tears, but they do enough that Ben notices. “I just think we should leave. Leave the Jedi Order behind. Remove ourselves from the war. We can go together. I’ve sensed that you always have wanted to run away. And you tell me that I should run, to protect myself. Why don’t we do it together?”

He squeezes your hand. “You know that I do not have that choice. I would be hunted down, if not by my family, by The First Order...”

You scoot closer, resting a palm on his chest. “I would help you.”

“No. I love you. Please. Just trust that I am taking care of things.”

“I love you too. And I want there to be no regrets between us.” You try very hard to hide the tears rolling down your face. 

Turning to his side, he wraps an arm around your waist, “There won’t be.”

“I’m so in love with you, Ben.” Stretching upwards, you kiss him lightly. You whisper, “I want you. Whether we die or not, I want this. I have for a long time.”

Whispering even quieter, he responds. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” 

 

 

 

When you wake up the next morning, he’s still asleep. The dawn sky paints his arm a bright pale color. It’s firmly wrapped around your waist, holding your skin to his. His breath is soothing and soft, caressing your hair. Every bare crevasse, bend, shape and form fits his. 

This is perfect. 

You hold onto his arm and close your eyes, pretending this is every morning of the life you might not ever live.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed this! Wanted to take a break from my regular on-going Fanfic to write a oneshot. I am really bad at writing in this point-of-view so I wanted to try to practice it for future works.


End file.
